A Safe Bet

"So, O'Callaghan." Joshua Waterman came up to him during lunch. John looked up from his cellphone and said, "What's up, Waterman?"

"Rumor has it that you and Harlow Peterson are dating." Joshua winked, slamming his backpack down, causing John to roll his eyes. He didn't like Joshua Waterman. He was a jerk and an airhead. Mostly a jerk, since he was notorious for sleeping with many women.

"What's it to you?" John asked, shrugging, a defensive tone appearing in his voice.

"Don't worry, bro," Joshua said. "I'm not gonna tap that, but damn, you scored the one student at this school who will most likely get into every single Ivy League school known to man."

"And your point...?" John wanted the conversation over. His eyes spotted Harlow in the courtyard, and he wanted to, so badly, walk over and surprise her from behind as she talked to Aimee.

"Just warnin' you," Joshua laughed. "Those kinds of girls have extremely high expectations and tend to be a little fragile. If you break her heart, who knows what the fuck will happen to her?"

John broke his gaze from Harlow, and snapped his head around to stare at Joshua, who stood up and swung his backpack on.

"Not saying that Harlow isn't a safe bet, but this is why most of the guys at this school tend to go for Elena. She's more open with herself...and she doesn't even have half the brain Harlow does." Joshua clapped John on the back, leaving him completely alone to his thoughts.

Bet.

Bet.

The fucking bet.

Why did he always forget about the bet? Every time he was with Harlow, everything would subside. He would forget about how his dad was going to kill him for taking the car out to a party at Halvo's that one weekend. He would forget about how maybe he would never make it in the business world, like he father planned. He would forget that he might not even get to go to college.

With Harlow, everything was brighter in his life.

The only thing keeping him on his feet was the bet. The bet he made with his friends, four months ago, that entitled him to be able to sleep with Harlow Peterson before prom.

That was before his heart went bonkers for the girl, and that was before she practically changed his life.

At that point, he had no idea what he was going to do the bet anymore. Whether he wanted in or out anymore...

~

"Fuck, I'm nervous." John said, straightening up as he stood in front of the door that Harlow was about to open.

They spent that entire Saturday together. First, to study for the psychology test that was on the following Monday, and then lunch at Oregano's, and then they spent the rest of the time at John's place, studying.

Harlow chuckled nervously. "I am too, to be honest."

"Why do I have to be here again?" He asked.

"Elena told my parents that we've been spending a lot of time together." Harlow said. "My dad knows you, but my mom doesn't. She wants to know who you are."

"Fuck." He cursed.

Harlow laid a hand on his arm and said, "John, don't worry. No matter what they'll say, it won't change anything. It won't change my feelings for you."

And it really wouldn't. She learned to never take anything her mother said, negatively, to heart. She always favored Elena more than her, and she knew that.

John sighed but gave her a smile.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Harlow opened the door to her house and let him inside. The smell of lasagna filled the air. Harlow could sense how nervous John was. He was breathing quite heavily - it kind of reminded her of Halvo, for some odd reason.

"Mom? Dad?" Harlow called.

Her father poked his head out of the kitchen and said, "Get settled in the living room. I'll be right there - your mom is still cooking."

Harlow took a hold of John's hand and guided him into their living room. They both plopped down on the couch and Harlow glanced at him, who gave her an uneasy smile.

"I can do this." He said, to himself. "I'm John Cornelius O'Callaghan the fifth. I can do this..."

"I know you can." Harlow whispered in his ear, kissing him lightly on the cheek, before her father bustled into the room. John straightened up and felt more confident, since he knew her dad.

"Hello, John." Harlow's father said.

"Mr. Peterson," John nodded.

"Been keeping up with the Suns?"

Harlow rolled her eyes. Of course, her father would immediately launch into talk of sports. Because of the fact that he only had two daughters, sports didn't come up much around the house. Any boy to enter the Peterson household would eventually get bombarded with talks of basketball or football, mostly.

John shrugged. "You know, I used to, but school has been taking over and I haven't lately. Steve Nash still play?"

"Of course, he does!" He exclaimed. "Nash is the best thing after Barkley, to ever happen to the Suns. He's not gonna leave ever, if anyone had a choice."

"Thank God." John said. "I don't think the Suns would ever have a chance without Nash. Stoudemire still there? What about Marion?"

"Stoudemire is still playing for us." Her father nodded. "Got injured quite a few times, but he's still holdin' up. Marion, on the other hand, was drafted out."

"Damn." John said. "I was hoping he'd stay..."

"Dinner!" Harlow's mother called from the kitchen. Harlow thanked God that she did because any more talks about the Phoenix basketball team, and she would have blown her brains out. Her hands instinctively entwined with John's as they made their way to the dining room.

"Elena here?" Harlow asked.

Her mother shot her a look that John did not catch, because his eyes fell upon the mounds of food on the table and she shook her head, "No. She's out."

They sat down quietly at the table, and Harlow started spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate: her favorite.

John smiled at her, remembering that she loved mashed potatoes. However, he felt eyes burning into him and looked up at the judging eyes of Harlow's mom.

"So, John." Her mother said, sounding uptight. "I hear that Harlow is tutoring you in physics."

"Psychology." John corrected. "Yeah, she is." He glanced at her, who gave him a reassuring smile, even though she felt very giddy herself.

Harlow watched as her mother processed his appearance in. She always did that. She did that to Aimee, to anyone in a study group, to basically any human being alive, except for Elena.

Mrs. Peterson gave a 'hm' noise, and said, "Are you in any other AP classes?"

"No, psych is the only one." John said. Harlow reached under the table and held his hand in hers.

"Oh." Her mother said, disapproved.

"He does have good grades in all of his classes." Harlow said, suddenly, defending John.

Her mother shot her another look and then proceeded to say to John, "What do you plan on doing after high school, then, John?"

"My father wants me to go into business...preferably with him. I'll probably go to college to study that." John nodded, squeezing Harlow's hand.

"Is that what you want?" Mrs. Peterson asked, her eyes staring daggers into him.

"Donna," Mr. Peterson exclaimed, "Stop bombarding the kid!"

"Yeah," Harlow nodded, in agreement. "Please."

"I am just making sure he's fit for Harlow - you know how she is." She lowered her voice at her husband.

It fueled something in Harlow that made her exclaimed, "And why do you care, mother? If I want to date John, your opinion makes absolutely no difference in my life."

"It will when you go to Harvard, Harlow." Her mother said, sternly. "John will stay here and how can you manage a long distance relationship?"

"We'll make it work, then!" Harlow cried, feeling a sudden confidence, her hand latching onto John's as she glanced at him. John was staring down at his food, unable to form words with his mouth. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, and Harlow, at the moment, wished he would erase that moment from his memory.

"Harlow, John," Mrs. Peterson said, causing John to lift his head up. "You're too naive right now. I'm sorry, but I do not see you two working out."

Harlow felt a blow in every vital organ of her body. Why couldn't her mother just accept anything that has to do with her? And why did she say that in front of John? She's never done that with any of Elena's boyfriends? What did her mother have against John, already?

"I should go." John mumbled to her.

"What?" Harlow asked, feeling her emotions coming strong.

"I really should go. I don't belong here..." John stood up. He have her parents a half-smile and said, "Thank you for the dinner. It was nice."

"Wait, John!" Harlow exclaimed, following him as he practically ran out the door. Harlow caught up to him and said, "I'm sorry. I'm so so so sorry."

John shook his head and chuckled, "I've gotten worse, trust me."

Harlow took a step closer to him, wanting to be in his arms, and even kiss him again, but John made his way to his car, his mind seemed very absent, and he said, "I'll see you in psych on Monday, okay?"

"Y - yeah." Harlow nodded. "Bye, John."

John slammed the door and sped out of Harlow's neighborhood, like his car was in warp speed. He didn't even say goodbye.

~

John sat on his bed, his head in his hands as hid mind kept replaying the scene with Harlow's mother over and over and over again.

It wasn't the fact that Mrs. Peterson did not approve of him - he's had so many parents disapprove - his parents, especially. It was the fact that Mrs. Peterson blatantly said that he wasn't good enough for her.

"It will when you go to Harvard, Harlow." Her mother said, sternly. "John will stay here and how can you manage a long distance relationship?"

It was true.

Harlow was smart, beautiful, studious...everything that John could never be for anyone. He was stupid, for the lack of a better word, and he still couldn't decide if he wanted to go to college for business, or just not and be a musician like he's always dreamed of.

John was a failure, and Harlow was a success.

The heavy feeling in his heart wouldn't go away as more and more doubt kept seeping in. They could never happen - no matter how hard John was falling for her, the more the idea of the bet was leaving his mind - John could never live up to Harlow's lifestyle. John wasn't good enough for her.

John made a strangled cry as he stood up and punched the wall, feeling angry with Mrs. Peterson, with his friends, with Harlow...but mostly himself.

John made a decision that he vowed to not doubt ever again: the bet was still on.